


Thirty One Days

by gotnofucks



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotnofucks/pseuds/gotnofucks
Summary: Ransom and you are on a month-long challenge. Who will win and what are the stakes?
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale & Reader, Ransom Drysdale & You, Ransom Drysdale/Reader, Ransom Drysdale/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	Thirty One Days

“Get your fucking hand out of my bra you asswipe!”

“Let me stuff in a couple more”

“You’re pinching my nipple!”

“Not my fault they stood up like Eiffel tower the moment I touched them”

The door opened and you and Ransom turned to look at the ashen faced intern who had just entered your cabin to drop some documents. You blinked before pushing out Ransom’s hand from your blouse, a clinking noise following. Straightening your attire while you cleared your throat, you tried your best to appear nonchalant.

“ _I am so sorry_ ” The poor guy apologized, his voice squeaking. He began an awkward walk back towards the door and Ransom stopped him with a smirk and tilt of his head.

“Aren’t you gonna keep those files on the desk?” He prompted and the intern nodded, shuffling forward to do what he had come to in the first place. Ransom meanwhile raised his eyebrows meaningfully at you and you grit your teeth. He then started wiggling those eyebrows and you vowed to shave them one day.

“Here, a reward for your good work.” You hissed out of clenched teeth and reached into your bra to fish out a dollar coin warmed by your body. The intern’s already parted mouth opened wider in shock, and he reached for the coin as if in a trance.

“Well then, go on.” You said and he rushed out with a flushed face. You put your hands on your hips, glaring at Ransom who didn’t bother hiding his amusement.

“Remember sweetcheeks, you gotta hand a dollar to _every person_ you interact with today.” He said. Like you needed a reminder.

“You need to stop being so smug, Ran. It’s your first victory this whole week.” You pointed out and his smirk vanished. You ran a mental tally of your score and internally sighed once you realized you were still ahead by a few points. You very well planned to win this bet, come hell or high water.

“Don’t be a sore loser sweetcheeks. Now go on out. Lots of people want a dollar for the vending machine, yes?” He taunted and strutted out of your cabin like he owned the place, which he did in a way. You worked at the Blood Like Wine Publishing as head editor under Harlan Thrombey, Ransom’s granddad.

How such a kind man like Harlan got saddled with a dick like Ransom you’d never know, but you’d be damned if you let him win this bet. So far you were a step ahead, and you planned to leave no stone unturned, if only to get the opportunity to do your victory dance in his face when you win.

“Just you wait till tomorrow Ransom Drysdale!” You said to yourself and then groaned when your secretary entered your cabin reminding you of your appointment. You put a hand in your bra and tossed a dollar at her stunned face, resigned to be humiliated for the rest of the day.

+++++

You swallowed more than chewed, ripping off another huge chunk of donut and stuffing it in your already full mouth. Across the table Ransom was doing the same, eyes watering slightly as he tried to breath with a stuffed mouth. You heaved a deep breath as you finished swallowing the last of your food and fist pumping the air in victory.

“In your face!” You shouted at him, winning today’s round. Ransom grumbled around his puffed cheeks and sipped some water, chewing slowly now.

“You bitch, how can you eat faster than me. I can eat like three times of your portions!” He groaned.

“Well, I am very good at deep throating. That helped quite a bit.” You said with a wink. Ransom scowled, his mood darkening at what was coming ahead. “As the day’s loser, you gotta take your tighty-whities off.”

“Excuse me?” He sputtered and you gave him a very innocent smile.

“Well, those jeans look awfully rugged. So rough, so masculine. These are just the jeans one should go commando in, don’t you think?”

He stared at you in disbelief, scoffing at your insane demand. And yet you kept that smile on your face intact, fluttering your lashes for good measure. Finally getting you were serious, he stood up and ran a hand through his hair.

“You can’t be serious Y/n! If I go commando in these jeans, I’ll chaff my…” He trailed off when he noticed you fighting a chuckle. Swelling in indignation, he went into the loo and came out clutching his briefs in his hand. Taking them as a spoil of war you watched in wry amusement as he walked bow legged, trying not to damage his goods.

“You sure you don’t wanna give up Ran? It’s not too late.” You said and dangled his underwear from your finger, swinging it.

“You played dirty today sweetcheeks, but you’re not the only one with plans underway. It is _so_ fucking on.” Ransom promised and walked away with as much dignity as he could afford in these jeans.

“Don’t forget to make your timely rounds around the office today!” You called after him and he flipped you off without looking back. You finally succumbed and started laughing, stuffing his briefs in your bag as a souvenir.

+++++

People dodged out of your way as you ran past them like the very hounds of hell were after you. Your heels were clutched in your hands, bag strapped cross-shoulder and hair pinned up. You imagined yourself like a warrior princess running to save her people, though you knew you probably looked like a hobo who got trampled by a herd of elephants. Sweat was running down the back of your neck and you pushed yourself to go faster as your destination approached. You flew into the room, a victory cry right on the tip of your tongue when you stopped short.

Ransom leaned back in your chair, legs resting on the desk and crossed at the ankle, the perfect picture of relaxation. The bastard was whistling, looking around randomly like he was taking a fucking walk in the park while you panted like a whale who had just undergone hours of labour.

“What the actual fuck” You whispered and wobbled to a chair. Your feet hurt, clothes were rumpled, and your hair was sticking every other way. Meanwhile, Ransom looked as put together like he was ready to walk the red carpet in his warm fuzzy sweater and trademark coat.

“You’re late today sweetcheeks, the stairs were crowded?” He asked in a drawling voice and your face pinched into an ugly look immediately.

“How the fuck did you manage to reach up before me. I _saw_ you enter after me. I took the stairs before you!” You declared, incensed. When he gave a condescending snort, you narrowed your eyes. “Did you take the elevator because that’s fucking cheating and you –”

“Take a breath sweetcheeks, you look a little blue. Follow me. One breath in, one breath out. One breath in, one breath out.”

You curled your hands and prayed for patience, his patronizing attitude _asking_ you to throw that heel right in his smug face.

“Ransom! How?” You snapped in irritation. His eyes glittered in mischief when he looked at you, the blue in them seeming brighter.

“The deal was to not use the elevator and get here first. I didn’t take the elevator _or the stairs like an idiot._ I took a lift.” He explained, jerking his neck towards the window where the window washer dangling from his chair waved at you and saluted Ransom before lowering himself. Your mouth opened in incredulity, surprised at his nerve and cleverness.

“You really…?” You asked pointing at the window and he nodded, apparently very pleased with himself.

“So” He began, putting his legs down and crossing his arms. You stiffened, knowing he must have a humiliating task for you. “Those heels look painful. Maybe some shoes?” He reached under your desk and pulled out a pair of old smelly shoes, ragged and dirty. You wrinkled your nose, already dreading wearing them today.

“Urgh, just give them here.” You said and reached out a hand for them, but Ransom handed you just one. He was still smiling, and your nerves started fraying. Whenever he smiled, shit hit the fan.

“You are still the head editor, you need to maintain appearances. So as a concession, feel free to wear only one shoe and one heel.” He waved his hand magnanimously, a benevolent act that wasn’t fooling anyone.

You were sure your jaw was making a nice place for itself somewhere on the door. He has got to be kidding. You can’t hobble around the office in a three-inch heel on one leg and a scruffy shoe on one.

“Ran, you can’t be serious. I’ll look like a –”

“A nightstand gone horribly wrong!” He cackled and got up from your chair. Moving around to your side, he knelt at your feet and took a heel from your hand. A perfect prince charming, he slipped it on one foot and then slipped on the shoe in the other. You were half in awe when your feet finally fit in the shoe.

“Ew ew ew!! Why the fuck is it soggy?” You screeched and Ransom burst out laughing. He got up, winked at you, and turned to leave.

“Your secretary told me to remind you about the meeting you have starting in 10 mins. Its two floors down, in the conference room. Don’t be late and take the stairs.” He snickers all the way out and you cursed him, wishing you had thrown your heel at him when you had the opportunity.

+++++

Middle school was horrible, but god bless that place for teaching you how to be a pro at spitballs. You aimed your straw with precision, taking a deep breath before blowing into the end and watched with bated breath as the spitball landed in the hood of one of the employees. You raised an eyebrow at Ransom who had been decidedly unsuccessful at shooting chewed up wads of paper at unsuspecting people. He tried not to squirm under your gaze as he made another attempt, his spitball deciding to quit mid-air and making a graceless landing on the floor where it will be left to be trampled by pointed heels and polished shoes.

“Well, this was a fun morning” You declared and emerged from your hiding place from beneath a table. You helped Ransom out, his huge frame barely managing to fit under the furniture.

“What do you want?” He asked annoyed and you pinched his cheek. It was going to be a sulky grumpy loser day today.

“Well, we sure gotta work on those manners Ran. You look like you’d kick a puppy.” You tease him and he pinched you in your love handles, a high-pitched giggle escaping you. You pushed away from him, wagging a finger at him.

“Well sweetcheeks, what will it be today?” He asked again and you tapped your chin, pretending to think. Snapping your fingers, you tutted.

“It’s a lesson day Ran. You’re gonna learn to be a good boy today, which means you’ll be treating everyone like royalty.”

“So, what, you want me to bow down whenever I see someone?”

“No Ran, I don’t want you to bow. I want you to _curtesy_.”

Staring at each other, one shell shocked the other full of pride, your gaze drifted to the watch on your wrist, wondering how long his shocked hibernation would go. He was still staring at you slackened jaw, a disbelieving sound making its way out. It didn’t seem like he had heard you, so like the kind person you were, you repeated your words and dipped into a graceful curtesy, a simpering belle.

“You – you bitch.” That’s all he managed to come up with and you nodded your head in agreement.

“True. Oh look, Harlan’s coming this way. Let’s go.”

+++++

Thirty-one days, thirty-one bets, thirty-one humiliations and one ultimate winner.

This was the last date you and Ransom would be competing, putting each other through some shit to see who would ultimately win the bet. As some cosmic joke, you’d been tied at 15 each and this last day would declare who gets to gloat.

You’d done every possible thing imaginable to wear each other down. You made him wear false eyelashes, made him twerk in the hallway and call everyone sunshine. He in turn had you do the Nazi salute as farewell (Harlan was still pissed), lick the wall in front of others and dress as Bert from the sesame street for one day. It grated on everyone’s nerve and they were as glad of this shit ending as you were.

You were in the pantry, finishing your coffee as you nervously tapped your feet. Somewhere in this office was Harlan’s knife, hidden by the great mystery writer himself and you had an hour to follow the clues he had given you to find the knife. Whoever gets to it first wins this godforsaken bet and life could go back to normal for the staff of Blood Like Wine Publishing’s.

You got up to put your mug in the sink when you hit your thigh on the table, a choked noise escaping you as the mug shattered on the floor by your feet, a few stray glass chips scratching your toes.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shaking your foot from the debris and moving away to sit on the table edge, one hand massaging your throbbing thigh while the other pulled out a chair so you could rest your feet on it. It wasn’t bleeding much, just a small gash and you sighed in relief. You heard one of the employs enter the kitchen to inspect about the noise and gasp as they saw you.

“Oh god, Y/n, are you okay? Shit, let me help you.”

You groaned when you saw it was Daniel, a real hardworking guy, also the guy who can’t take a hint. If you had to go one more day of him trying to wink at you and using the cheesiest pickup lines you knew he googled during lunch time, you’ll take that broken mug and stab yourself, or him. You watched him wet a towel and gently wipe your toe and you instinctively clutched his shoulder as the wound stung.

“Lord, this hurts like a bitch. And it had to happen today of all days!”

You were busy bemoaning your fate and trying to ignore Daniel’s sweet reassurances that sounded awfully close to a love confession when the pantry door banged open so loud it made both of you jump. You looked over your shoulder to see Ransom walking like Devil must walk in hell, his brown coat billowing behind him and a scowl on his handsome face.

“What’s happening here?” He asked Daniel and coming closer he pushed him away from you, his frown vanishing the moment he looked at the splash of red on your feet. “What the fuck _happened_?”

You scrunched your face, lower lip wobbling a little as you answered, “My mug broke and I cut myself.”

Ransom looked at you with concerned eyes, helping you sit on the table fully so he could inspect your feet. You bit your lip as a sharp pain radiated the moment his hand made contact with the wound; your eyes squeezed shut.

“I know how to do first aid Mr. Drysdale. I could fix her up.” Daniel offered and you opened your eyes to glare at him. His voice was hurting your ears and you needed him out.

“The only thing you’ll be fixing is your broken teeth if you so much as touch her. Get out of here!” Ransom threatened. You had to hand it to Daniel, the stupid man who squared his shoulders like readying himself for a battle.

“Stop acting like you own her.” Daniel grumbled and Ransom’s nostrils flared. He stood up and got in close with Daniel, his huge body making the poor guy appear smaller than he was.

“Own her?” Ransom hissed, a pulse throbbing in his temple. “I don’t own her, but she owns me.” He reached inside his sweater to pull out the gold chain and the ring hanging from it, dangling it in front of Daniel’s baffled face. “Now, you get the hell out of here or I’ll make sure granddad fires you first thing tomorrow.”

You’d never seen a grown man run away as fast as Daniel did and you chuckled. Ransom turned back to you, kneeling, and picking up the discarded cloth and pressing it gently to your wound. His jaw was still clenched, and you smoothed out the winkles on his forehead with a finger.

“Hey, I am okay.” You assure him and take his chin in your hands. “I also love it when you go from regular bitch mode to a jealous bitch mode. It’s very hot.”

He stood up and put an arm on either side of you, his breath hitting your face.

“I hate wearing this ring around my neck. I want it on my finger. And one on yours to match. This secrecy is killing me.” He looked into your eyes and you smiled, pulling him down to press the softest of kisses on his pouting lips.

“Just this last challenge Ran, and then we can let everyone know.”

Ransom pulled away, fingers playing with the holes in his sweater. The blue is his eyes never failed to drown you, never failed to reel you in. Since the moment you had agreed to the first date with him to the last month where you went down on one knee, you knew you weren’t spending a life apart. He was an asshole, but he was _your_ asshole.

“Fuck this challenge, I want to let everyone know that every night you go home with me, you scream under me.” Ransom said hotly. You raised an eyebrow since he was the one who wanted this bet.

“Are you sure? Because I’ll count it as a win and bring home a kitty.” You said with a mischievous smile. Of all the things you and he fought about, this was what prompted a series of humiliating challenges. Do you get a cat after your marriage or not.

“Why do we need a kitty when the most perfect, mewling one is right here?” Ransom said and his hand crept up your thigh to cup the heat between your legs. You jumped, putting your hand on his wrist, and pushing away.

“Ransom! You promised not in the office!” You scold him and he rolls his eyes.

“What? It’s not like you didn’t like getting ploughed against granddad’s bookshelf last week.” He retorts.

“You both what?” Screamed a voice and both you and Ransom jumped to see Harlan standing by the door. He was dressed smartly as ever, hands folded across his chest and an angry scowl on his face.

“Shit!” Ransom said, taking his hands off your body and stepping away. No one was supposed to know you’re together, certainly not Harlan until you made it official. You both were close, but you were still his employee. You couldn’t tell him that his grandson twisted you into pretzels every night and did you dirty on his couch.

“Correct me if I am wrong but did you both turn my office into a battlefield for the past month because you were deciding if you wanted to adopt a cat?” Harlan asked, his bushy brows raised.

You and Ransom looked at each other stunned and lost before shrugging.

“That, and to decide who gets the right side of the bed. It’s closer to the refrigerator.” You tell him. Harlan looks at you like he does at Walt when he’s being stupid about Netflix again and then shifts his gaze to his grandson.

“And you young man? When were you going to tell me that you found yourself a wife?” He asked.

“Fiancé” Ransom corrected, and you bit back a laugh. Ransom will always be salty about the fact that you proposed to him first. You looked at Harlan whose expression was gradually melting into a smile, a fondness for his favourite grandson and worker evident on his face.

“Ransom leave us alone. Now.” Harlan suddenly orders and you nervously bite your lip. It didn’t seem like Harlan was pissed, but you couldn’t tell with Thrombeys. Ransom looked ready to protest but you nod at him and he pecked your cheek before walking away.

“Oh, and granddad, do you promise not to tell another soul what you saw?” He asked. It was dramatic, but he’d be damned if everyone here knew he was soft for you. Hugh Ransom Drysdale had a reputation to uphold.

“Son, what I saw you doing with this sweet girl here is something I never want to think again, let alone talk about. Now get the hell out so I can bleach my eyes.”

Ransom shut the door behind him, your face burning under Harlan’s analytical gaze. You were proud of yourself and Ransom to have kept this relationship under wraps for this long. To fool one of the greatest mystery writers had to be an achievement.

“So,” Harlan began “How come you’re marrying the _‘biggest dick on the planet’_ as you like to call him?”

You smile a little, knowing that everyone would be confused by this relationship. You and Ransom cussed each other, pranked each other so often that at most you looked like reluctant frenemies and not a couple.

“He is a dick, but he’s a dick I like. He may be an asshole to everyone, but to me he’s only an asshole when I want him to be. I’ve seen him laugh and smile, and he’s seen me peeing every morning while he brushes his teeth.”

Harlan pinched his nose, the TMI attack hitting his weak nerves and knowing that you and Ransom together will take the world by a storm. Well, at least you look strong enough to brave Linda and the rest of the family.

“Now listen to me very closely.” Harlan said coming closer. “How badly do you want that cat?”

You blinked stupidly for a second before clasping your hands in front of him, a smile lightening up your face.

“Very!” You say.

“Here are the answers to the treasure hunt.”


End file.
